


Possession

by sunlitwitch



Category: Ebon Light (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 13:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlitwitch/pseuds/sunlitwitch
Summary: Cerelia makes heads turn; sometimes too many for Ernol's taste.





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for another members of the Ebon Light server. Shout-out to Erimentha and her MC Cerelia. 💜

Twilight shone through the windows of the hall, yet the dark hair and dress of the partygoers swallowed it in a sea of black. Cere however was ablaze in it, the ashen crown of her hair lit by the fading light. Between that and the shine of her dress, it rendered her a figure too easily sought. Whispers seemed to ripple through the crowd wherever she wandered and as those whispers began to fade, the interactions began.

She combed the crowds for her companion. It seemed he was pinned down in a tense conversation with his Father and Duliae, casting looks her way every so often. Occasionally, Cere would smile and blow him kiss. It didn’t seem that he’d be getting free anytime soon.

“My dear lady of the Cuthintal,” one of the nearby figures drawled. “So charming to see you here tonight. It is sometimes said you are royalty taken from distant kingdom, but I would never had thought had I not seen for myself.”

Cere curtsied with a demure smile. “The compliment is much appreciated.”

Another man appeared at his side with a woman in tow. “Ternith, would you mind if I cut in for a moment?” Cere inwardly sighed. It was flattering to have so many vying for her attention, but none of them she truly desired. Her eyes, drawn toward that source of affection, sought Ernol for just a moment. He had his jaw clenched.

Drums began to thunder through the crowd. “Ah,” the newcomer said. “May I ask the lady for a dance?”

Not wanting to refuse, Cere inclined her head softly. “By all means, so long as you maintain the part of a gentleman.” The young man’s eyes sparkled. “Naturally. I trust you are familiar with our traditional mode of dance?” Her face was a neutral mask that concealed no shortage of displeasure. “I have made it a point to invest myself in Gha’alian tradition.”

“Excellent!” He replied, steering them toward the dance floor.

Cere hazarded a glance at Ernol a few times throughout. She was reasonably certain she could see a few of the veins in his neck, even at a distance. The man her opposite danced uncomfortably close, hand lingering at her shoulder. She got away as soon as she could, sparing a bow one last time as she stepped in tune. She wanted, no _needed_ to make her escape.

“Ernol,” she said, breaking through the tense atmosphere as she happened upon their discussion. “The music is still playing. Perhaps you’d be interested in a dance?”

This seemed to ignite a chain reaction. “Actually, I was just leaving.” For a moment, she swore she could see his anger ripple through the air. “You’re welcome to join me,” he added, softer for her benefit, “but I think I’ve had enough for one day.”

Lonre grinned, shifting the wine in his goblet. “Suit yourself, son. Though if the lady wants to dance, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Ernol vibrated with rage. “_I_ am going.” He turned on his feel and pushed blindly through the crowd, his glare causing patrons to shift nervously out of his way as he crossed the room. Lonre only chuckled.

“My son has always had quite a temper. Why don’t you go on? Duliae and I,” his tone laced with no small amount of contempt at the latter, “have some business to discuss.”

Cere needed nothing further. Since it was Lonre’s party in the first place, it wouldn’t be too difficult to find him. Knowing Ernol, he was either destroying something hapless or seething in his room. Worst case scenario was that Lonre’s study would need another refurbishment.

She began with the second option. It took some time to cross the dance floor and find the hallway, passing Vadeyn on the way. Sighing inwardly, Cere changed a timid knock; the door swung open with unnatural force the moment her knuckles grazed the surface. 

“Come in,” he said, dark as a thundercloud. As she entered, the door snapped shut behind her. “Erno--” she began, but was silenced by the urgency of his lips, tongue slipping between her own with need.

Ernol gathered her skirt to lift her from underneath and her legs wrapped his waist, moaning. She found herself up against the wall, squirming as one hand supported her while the other went straight between her legs, pressing against her smallclothes. 

“Mine,” he breathed. In the obsidian mirror of his eyes she could see her wanting reflection; arousal began to coil like an asp. “Ernol,” she moaned as his teasing became more insistent, seeking that small center of pleasure he knew so well.

“I want you,” she whispered. “You, Ernol.” His jaw flexed. Cere was lost in the tempest for those last moments before he began to murmur in her ear. “Good,” he said, “tell me again.”

Cere whimpered as he began to toy with the seam of her panties. “I want you,” she breathed “I love you, Ernol.”

“_Bewan_,” he cursed. Cere could feel his desire flex against her leg. Ernol slipped a finger past her clothing, tracing her wetness and he let out a groan. “You’re soaked.”

“Please,” Cere whimpered. “I want…” But again he kissed her, stifling a gasp as his finger pressed into her core. Cere’s throat hummed with pleasure. Bracing her against the wall with his hips, he spared his other hand for just a moment to pull the front of her dress down, seeking the flesh there with his lips.

His thumb traced circles as he dove into her again and again, lapping at her breasts before teasing at a taut nipple. Cere clung to his shoulders, senses unwinding as each touch brought new music to her lips. His finger curled within her, seeking that tender point that drove her mad. She could feel the pleasure cresting and she gave in, lost in the haze.

“Come for me Cerelia,” he whispered against her sleek flesh, lapping at it greedily. “Say you belong to me.”

Cere glanced down to see him smoldering at her. His hair was in a disarray and the lustre of his black eyes were swam with need, desire, possession. “Fuck!” She cried out, tensing around him. Pleasure crashed over her body, hips seeking him desperately as he drew each sensation out to its last.

For a moment he was still, holding her firmly against the wall. She could feel his heartbeat against her abdomen. Then, tenderly he carried the bed, kissing the nape of her neck.

“I love you Cerelia,” he whispered in her ear. “I love you so much. All I wanted was one night with you and instead, I spent it with two old women, bickering.” The disgust in his tone was softer now. “When I saw you dancing, I just…”

“It’s okay, Ernol.” She whispered. “I understand. I knew you weren’t angry with me, at any rate.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “No,” he whispered. “I just…”

Cere tugged at his clothes to pull him on top of her. “Again?” He chuckled, eyes gentle. “I want you, Ernol. I need to feel you…” She whispered, urgently. 

“Yes,” he murmured against her lips. It was a different sort of kiss; sweeter, filled with promise. He moved her skirt up again, this time pulling her smallclothes off altogether. Her whole body was electric with the remnants of her first orgasm, so much that his touch sent chills in every direction.

He discarded his jacket and pulled his shirt off without a thought. Such a careless act he’d no doubt regret in the morning. Ernol positioned himself against her and Cerelia squirmed. “I love you,” he said huskily as he pressed inside of her, a half-stifled groan on his lips.

He was so warm and wanting, moving softly at first… But his need was too great to hold back for very long. Cerelia wrapped her arms around his shoulders, gazing breathlessly into his eyes as he took her again and again. The were mirrors of passion, echoing in endless repetition. His fervor was her own and likewise; with every thrust and groan, she felt the pleasure building again.

“Ernol, I’m yours,” she whispered. “You’re mine.” He moaned, this time with such force she was certain others would hear them. “Yes,” he said, as if affirming it to himself. ‘Yours…”

As he did, she could feel him stiffen inside her, his head tossed back. Every curse she’d ever heard in Gha’alian and some she hadn’t came pouring from his lips, along with her name. Ernol was like a feral animal, pressing her deep into the mattress as he spilled inside of her, and delirious with pleasure she came again, the ecstasy blooming at her core.

The two of them collapsed in a sweaty mess just moments before a violent thuds could be heard from the other side of the wall, near the hallway.

“Could you two _please_ shut the fuck up in there!” Arvon cried.


End file.
